


Maybe soulmates do exist

by Robronobsession



Category: IT, Reddie - Fandom
Genre: Grown Up, M/M, lost memorie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 14:41:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21056096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robronobsession/pseuds/Robronobsession
Summary: Saw a drawing of James tattoos on Eddie and started thinking about tattoos so ended up writing this.





	Maybe soulmates do exist

Eddie can’t really remember much of his childhood anymore, much of anything really. Facts yes, diseases yes, drunken collage nights of rebellion yes. But what he was rebelling? Why he has Loser with a red v over the s tattooed across his chest? Why he decided to spend his collage years ‘living on cigarettes and alcohol and Adderall’ (not entirely true but a joke he remembers from a comedian he can’t quite remember) Now he really wouldn’t call himself rebellious, sure he’s pretty covered in tattoos but he’s also a doctor who worries about germs from anything and everything. One who gets calls from his mother everyday and gets checked by everyone he knows the second mole appears or he so much as coughs. A doctor who can’t keep a relationship because nothing ever feels right. To begin with he’d only date girls, but when your going through a collage rebellion everything’s on the table, since then he’s dated nice guys and nice woman and many many dickheads of human beings but nothing fit. So soon after actually getting into a hospital to learn he decided not to bother with dating anymore.

Richie was having the time of his life. He was writing for a weekly stand up show on par with snl for christ sake, every work shift was just messing about with his friends! What more could he want, most would say a girlfriend, most didn’t know that’s the last thing he’d want. He was a pretty normal looking guy, a little weird round the edges maybe but nothing you’d consider dangerous, that’s why he burst into ridiculous laughter when his friends suggested he was the toughest of the group. It was a little after the show ended and a few of them had gone out for drinks not too far away from the studio.  
“That’s saying so much more about you guys then me if you think I’m tough.” He exclaimed.  
“You have knuckle tattoos dude!” Laughed Andy, a writer and actor on the show.  
“And I’m pretty sure you did them yourself by the looks of things.” Commented Seth.

Both things where true, over his knuckles, in obviously unprofessional hand inked letters were scribbled LOSERS CLUB. Not a great fit, or great thing to have written on your hands either. He doesn’t quite remember doing it, he’s pretty sure he was either very drunk or very upset when he did it though. Vague memories of people making fun of him, or maybe someone else, coupled with painful scratching as his hands shook is all he remembers.

“How old were you when you did them?” Asked andy.  
“Like” He scrunched his face up desperately trying to remember. “16 I think.” He says looking down at them. “It’s what assholes in my town called my group of friends.” He said unsure where that came from or if that was even true.  
“That is the single most badass thing I’ve ever heard dude!” 

It was another long night for Eddie. A long night for all of the trainee doctors in his group, some days the only thing you can do is go for a drink and try remind each other that you’re their for them. The five of them walked down to a little bar not too far from the hospital. A small, dark place where you’ll either run into someone vaguely famous or someone about to be on the news for stabbing you. Not that Eddie was too scared of being stabbed, across his cheek lay a large scare that he could run his tongue along on the other side. Something that really pushed his bad boy look especially with the black jeans, white t and black leather jacket he was now wearing, a look his work friends would make fun of from the second he showed his personality. 

The bar, surprisingly wasn’t too full and the 5 doctors walked over to a corner booth to sit down. The rounds came in fast and it wasn’t long before they were all laughing, flicking coasters off pint glasses to see who could make the loudest noise whilst telling increasingly rude stories. 

Across the room sat the 3 comedians, also getting increasingly drunk, though surprisingly in a calmer manner. They sat up the bar, choosing to move away from the noise building at the back. Suddenly a woman stumbled into the bar, grabbing onto Richie for support as she groaned in pain from hitting the bar.  
“You alright there?” Andy asked concerned, his was the last in the row but leaned forward to see her.  
“I’m fantastic babes.” She stretched out the words strangely sarcastically.   
“Don’t I know you?” She said drunkly dragging a hand down Richie’s face, his eyes drew wide with discomfort.  
“No. Please get off.” He mumbled drunkly, face squished.   
“Oh my god!” She said excitedly, quickly moving to grab his hands in hers.   
“Yeah I make terrible mistakes.” Richie said annoyed, trying to get his hands back.   
“EDDIE!!!” The woman screamed turning back to her group, not fast enough not to scream into riches mouth at first though. “EDDIE TAKE YOUR TOP OFF!!!” The comedians looked to the woman with confusion then to the group.

Eddie was angrily explaining the definitions of different illnesses when Chloe screamed out his name. Suddenly his entire group were chanting for him to take his top off. Which he quickly agreed to stepping onto the table as he took it off nearly causing himself to fall flat on his face.

“Guys I think we need to leave.” Said Andy as the barmen shook their heads and the group cheered.

“Wooo!” Screamed Chloe across to the doctors who were running over to her, Eddie putting on his jacket, pushing the sleeves up as far as they could go, carefully stepping over tables then chairs to follow.

The comedians gathered their things and tried to leave as they got surrounded, Chloe grabbed Richie’s hands trying to show them to the group ripping him from his chair as he tried to stand causing him to fall face forward into a pile of bar stools.

Suddenly Richie’s surrounded by drunk people claiming to be doctors trying to make him stay still. Shouts of the strangers and his friends drowned out by a soft voice asking if he’s ok. Small hands on his arms, gently holding him still. His glasses somewhere fallen on the floor he reaches out to the figure before him, clumsily burying his hands into a leather jacket. He keeps his head down, the light too bright even in a dimly lit pub. Groaning softly in pain he leans forward bumping his head into the mans chest.   
“Hey?” The soft voice drunkly says, and something in him makes Richie want to stay here forever. Those small hands make their way to his face, gently lifting his view to the blurry figure.   
“Can you tell me your name?” The blurry figure asks, his breath smelling of vodka and mints, Richie really wouldn’t mind seeing what his mouth tastes like too.  
“You can call me whatever you want.”   
“Maybe later but right now I really need to know you name.” The voice says, soft and worried.  
“Richie.” He said moving his head back down, hands somehow slipped into the mans jacket. He feels the mans soft skin against his, the jacket laying heavy against his hands, his thumb rubbing just against the edge of the mans jeans and suddenly he’s reminded of all the times he wishes he’d had the courage to touch a man like this. Collage friends sat too closely on his bed and drunken night in bars no one knew him with men who’s name he could of easily forgot.   
“Richie.” The man says back to him and Richie can practically hear his smile. “Think we all better go home yeah?” He said, almost a whisper, his drunken state making him lose track of personal space as he slumped closer to the taller man, his legs spread out either side of him making him look like he could almost be the smaller one.  
“I’m not that easy baby boy.” He laughs into the mans chest before dragging himself away. He didn’t even notice Andy and Seth crouched down beside him. Till a figure was passing him his glasses as he got pulled up.  
“Actually maybe I am.” He said once he could see his savours face. His large brown eyes filled with worry as a soft smile spread across his lips. A cut across his cheek that pulled something in Richie’s chest, a vague memory of screams and cry’s and an axe, followed by a row of rude jokes even he wouldn’t say but the strongest feeling he already has. The man laughed and patted riches shoulder, blushing at the compliment. 

Neither got to finish that conversation as Richie got dragged away and out of the small bar, only managing to get another glimpse of the man from between the crowed as he got shoved out the door. 

Eddie stood with his friends as the two friends practicing carried riche out the bar. He wasn’t the kind of man Eddie would even find attractive. Messy hair overdue for a wash, his face framed with a scruffy beard and breath that smelled of whisky and cigarettes. But he stood breathless as he watched him leave. Something tugging at his chest even after the door swung shut and his friends started arguing between themselves, he couldn’t drag his eyes from the door. Warm summer days filled his thoughts, a strange sense of not quite memories of hammocks and played up arguments.  
“Ed’s!” Shouted one of his friends from not even a foot away jogged him out of his thoughts.  
“Don’t call me that!” He said harshly, too harshly, he shook his head to try and get back to reality. “Sorry John.”   
“We’re heading off wanna share a cab?”  
“Yeah.” He said brow still scrunched. “Yeah course soz mate miles away.”  
“Come on softie no falling for patience remember.”  
“Fuck off.” He said following them out.

He stood on stage completely silent, microphone in hand as the audience looked on. Slowly he wiggled the microphone wire, then again so the wire rose slightly higher, he did it once more so the wire rose high of the ground before swiftly turning so it wrapped round the bottom of his feet. “I went out to get waisted the other day! As one does.”  
“And I was sitting in a bar and suddenly there was this big group of drunk people who started taking their clothes off.”   
“I know right!” He said smiling and wide eyed. “my luck!” He said as he wafted a hand in front of his face pretending to blush. “I didn’t get undressed because I’m not an insane person.” He said more sternly. “I’d say because have dignity but we all know that’s a lie.” He stood silently for a moment again. “Basically what I’m asking is what’d you do when you get drunk fall over and bash your head into a pile of bar stools leading to you falling in love with a blurry outline of someone who says their a doctor.” He asked quickly, high pasted and high pitched. “it was an attractive blurr gotta say.” He laughs. “I didn’t get a name though, Seth dragged me away.” Aw’s filled the crowd, he signalled for them to get louder. “I know right!”He said arms up in fake frustration. “You see your friend hurt on the floor, a heavily tattooed, extremely drunk, topless ‘doctor’ with a face scare crouching over him and you intervene?” He waits for the laughter to die down before talking again. “You know I’ve never been a guy for the could probably kill you wanna be biker look but that blurr man. Um um um. Smelled of vodka and piss. Um um um.”

“What did we say about stand up shows in the waiting room Mrs Jenkins.”   
Eddie asked the deceptively fragile looking woman sat clutching onto the remote as he walks down the corridor.  
“Oh but I do love hearing Mr Tozier’s stories.”  
“Is anyone swearing in this one?” He said not looking up from his clip board, only hearing laughter from the television.   
“Oh no love. He’s talking about a young doctor, hey he might be talking about you love.” She replies as he walks through the waiting room still not looking up. “Maybe Mrs Jenkins.” 

Finally he makes it to the on call room and before he can even think he’s collapsed down onto the small bed. Last Saturday he managed to completely black out by the time his head hit the pillow but every night after, even after ridiculously long shifts his thoughts keep blearing through his head unable. He closes his eyes and all he can see is a tall drunk man, scruffy beard scratching against his bare chest, fingers clinging to his lower stomach. He doesn’t even like guys like that, he reminds himself, he’s probably an asshole, probably a drunk. He doesn’t even know the guy. So doe nearly a week after did it feel like the man was still clinging to him? Why did he wake with a heavy feeling on his chest every morning, why did that make him nearly tear up with joy and why did he nearly cry when he looked down and no one was there? 

Before he’s noticed times passed there’s a knock at the door telling him his breaks over and he’s back to it again. Back dealing with furious patients who always wanted to see a older looking doctor. 

Richie hoped joking about it would push the man out of his head. But stand up meant writing and that meant thinking about it. The more he spent trying to put funny ways to put it the more he thought of wet grass on summer days, violent snow ball fights and the cold hands he’d hold afterwards. Maybe if he got drunk, maybe if he found a woman he could block out, maybe if he just tried to forget that hollow feeling would go. He didn’t even know the man so why does it feel like he’s lost something? 

Somehow it had been nearly a month since he was sat on a bars floor with a mans legs nearly wrapped around him. For his friends it felt like years, years of subtle sulking and his head shooting in the direction of any leather jacket walking by. Nearly a month of him picking up a different lady every night the group went out together, nights of forced flirting where both of them wanted to desperately intervene, tell him he didn’t have to do this. In the years they’ve known him he’d occasionally flirt with a woman or even take her home but that was rare and normal only due to something homophobic someone’s said. But it was never like this.

Maybe tonight he’ll forget, or at least black out that stupid man. Maybe he’ll forget how his jacket smelled of sanitizer and the way his legs brushed against his. Or maybe he’ll just go home with some woman way out of his league who doesn’t care because he’s famous. Some woman he’ll kiss with his eyes shut tightly. Someone he’ll fuck head buried in the pillow so he can pretend he’s having the time of his life with out having to look at the woman he’s lying too as he moans loudly I try and drown out her sounds. Or maybe he’ll get rejected for saying a purposely too dirty joke and spend his evening on his sofa unable to sleep in his too bigger bed alone. 

“Richie, Rich.” Andy says softly dragging him away from yet another woman, she was sat on a bar stool with Richie in between her legs.   
“Rich you gotta stop this man.”   
“Stop what I’m having fun.” He asked hands on the young woman’s exposed thighs. Andy gentle grabbed his arm and lent in closely.  
“No you’re not. Come on dude you don’t have to do this. It’s ok come on.” He was expecting more of a fight from Richie’s he dragged him over to the corner and away from the pretty girl. Riche drunkly stumbled directly into the core corner wall, he clung on to the wall then a lamp then andy trying to turn himself around.   
“You don’t have to go round sleeping with woman just because you flirted with one guy rich.” He said half trying to hold Richie upright.  
“Who says I was flirting. I’m mess around say rude jokes.” Richie said trying to laugh but the He was too frightened of what andy might think of him to laugh.  
“And all the other times before that? When a cute guy walks past and you try not to look? When someone in the office makes a homophobic joke and... I see the look in your eyes when they do. It’s ok Richie.”

Andys hands are nearly in his hair and his body feels so warm and he can’t do this anymore, Richie leans forward drunkenly, he knows he’s straight and knows he has a girlfriend, but maybe just for a second he can...  
“Dude.” Andy says a little too shocked, a little too discussed so he runs. And before Richie knows it he’s in the middle of the street running just anywhere, anywhere that’s not here.

All Eddie seemed to do was work. Not that he minded. It was better to be be busy then to think. His friends suggested he should’ve out, find a one night stand to forget about the strange drunk man, but the variety of diseases someone could get from a one night, amount of std’s and, and what if he picked the wrong guy and go taken to his basement or sold or... no all possibilities of the danger out weighed the positives.   
“You’ll never guess who just got hit by a car.”   
“Christ Janet you really know how to lift someone’s spirits.” He replied confused at her joyful tone.  
“He didn’t get seriously hurt just a broken arm.”  
“Ok.” He said his face comically obvious in wanting more of an explanation.  
“Room L14.” She said more softly. “If it turns out he’s a drunk or asshole it’s not my fault.” She said before walking off.

What the hell could any of that mean though Eddie. Who go hit by a car that he’d want to see. So he started walking, it was nearly the other side of the hospital and he should be doing something else, something else probably, but his mind can’t remember what. He stopped before he made it to the door, there was only one person on his mind he wanted it to be and he didn’t know what to do if it was. He hated not knowing what to do but as he stepped out the way for a patient in a wheelchair he could see through the window of the little hospital room and his breath stuck in his throat. He picked up his courage and marched through the door.

“Fuck you doing here dickwad”  
“Thanking you for saving my life what it look like I’m doing fucking your mom?”  
“Makes sense why your in hospital then, she wouldn’t let you on top?”  
“Things got a bit feisty.”   
“Nice room you got here planning on moving in?” Eddie said looking round the more expensive room, poking the flowers and cards already gathering even though it had only been a few hours since the accident.   
“Thought I might, the views quite something.” Riche said blatantly looking at Eddie.  
“You some kinda rich arshole or you just got good insurance.”   
“Oh you know just that tv money.”  
“So I’m being stalked by a tv star am I?”   
“Me? Who’s in who’s hospital room?”  
“Who got his by a car just to come to my hospital.”  
“Don’t feel special I pull this move with all the fella’. The good old get hit by a car break some ribs works every time.”  
“You need better pick up lines.”  
“My go to move is fall into a pile of chairs hope I get a snog of a dangerous looking doctor.” Riche said, voice softer, Eddie was practically standing next to the bed now. The tv softly speaking to itself in the background.  
“Urrr.” Richie groaned.  
“You ok you ok.” Eddie panicked speaking nearly to fast for Riche to hear. Eddie was hectically looking at his heart rate monitor and whatever else was on those screens.  
“I’m fine dick hole I hate seeing myself on tv.”  
Eddie quickly turned to the tv, he wasn’t lying, this should be fun. He ruched to get the remote and turn up the volume riche to hurt to get up and stop him even though he begged. Riche knew which stand up piece this was, out of all the re-runs why did it have to be this on.

“Basically what I’m asking is what’d you do when you get drunk fall over and bash your head into a pile of bar stools leading to you falling in love with a blurry outline of someone who says their a doctor.”  
The smug face on Eddie was unbearable, but if he could he’d never stop looking at it.  
“Damm so you think you’re some kinda funny man?” He laughed. Richie was too embarrassed to talk as he lifted his good hand to his face, the other broke and wrapped up. “Who’s the one stalking who now?” He asked getting closer to Riche again. “I hope I’m the hot blurr.”   
“Um um um. Smelled of vodka and piss. Um um um” the tv Riche said.  
“I do not smell of piss!” He laughed angrily.  
“You can’t smell what you smell like.” Riche said moving his hand away. He didn’t expect the man to be quite so close, he definitely didn’t smell of piss, Riche could nearly taste the mint on his breath and the sanitizer.   
The smaller man had frozen still and a million different things he could of done wrong shot through Riches head. But Eddie didn’t look angrily or scared, he looked strangely ecstatic.  
“Don’t freak out.” Eddie said moving one of his hands to his shirt.  
“You undressing for me.”  
“Don’t freak out.” He lifted his shirt to where losers with a v was scribbled across his chest.  
“Gotta be shitting me.”  
Riche whispered.  
“I’ve never believed in fate.”   
“I’ve never believed in much of anything.” Riche said moving his hand to touch eddies chest.  
“But fuck think I better start now.”

It’d be nearly 20 years before they found out, or remembered, why they shared a tattoo. Before they realised they hadn’t invented their closest friends to their wedding, or their kids christenings, 20 years before they realised just how much they were meant to be.


End file.
